


Cursed

by dishonestdreams



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Crack Treated Seriously, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 20:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18724735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dishonestdreams/pseuds/dishonestdreams
Summary: Jared doesn't mean to attract the attention of the gods, he really doesn't.  It just kinda...happens





	Cursed

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this a while ago (I think as comment fic for someone over on LJ) and have apparently never got round to reproducing it here.
> 
> Not gonna lie, there's a part of me that would like to turn this into a 30k epic, but in case that never happens, I figured it was worth sharing anyway.

“Again?” Jensen said, incredulously, and Jared bit his lip against the blush he could feel starting to creep up his neck.

“I wasn’t trying to,” he said, helplessly, “Honestly, Jen, I didn’t think he’d mind.”

Jensen blinked slowly, as though he was trying to process Jared’s words and then he just flat out stared. “You didn’t think he’d mind,” he echoed, “You didn’t think he’d _mind?!_ You _stole_ from the god of _war_ and you didn’t think he’d mind? Are you insane?”

“Well,” Jared said, “I hadn’t actually made the devotions yet, so technically I didn’t steal anything. I thought it would be okay before the offering.”

Jensen rolled his eyes, “I’m gonna go out on a limb and say you didn’t think at all,” he said dryly, “I have no idea why the elders ever let you anywhere near the temples any more. How many times has it been now, Jared? Two? Three?”

“Yeah, something like that,” Jared said, with a shrug, “I guess I’m just a curse magnet.” 

(By Jared’s count, it was more like seven – he had a _knack_ for catching divine attention in all the worst ways - but the way he figured it, what Jensen didn’t know about wouldn’t get him to look at Jared with his disappointed face and, honestly, that happened a lot more regularly than Jared was happy with anyway. There were a lot of ways Jared liked Jensen to look at him, but that was definitely not one of them.).

“You’re an idiot,” Jensen said, not unkindly, “Okay, I know I’m going to regret asking, but what did they do to you this time?”

“Um,” Jared said, with a quick glance around the room, “Watch.”

There wasn’t much in Jensen’s dressing room that he wouldn’t be pissed about losing, but there was an ugly-ass, shell-coated lamp that had been a gag gift from Misha earlier in the season that Jared thought he could probably get away with. He reached out slowly, all too aware of Jensen’s eyes tracking the movement, and touched one finger against the lampshade.

Nothing happened, for the fleeting gap between one breath and the next, and then the lamp collapsed, dissolving into a stream of skittles that rattled noisily across the desk to pour across the floor.

It was almost enough to drown out Jensen’s gasp. 

“Jared,” Jensen said, slowly, “ _What_ did you steal from the offering?”

“Gummy worms,” Jared admitted, “But only a couple. There were still plenty left.”

“Apparently not,” Jensen said, “Does that happen to everything you touch?”

“Kinda,” Jared said, “I mean, it isn’t always skittles and I haven’t actually touched anything alive yet, because that’s the kind of shit that gives you nightmares for _life_ , but, yeah.”

“Fuck,” Jensen said, expressively, and Jared half-nodded because, yeah, that pretty much summed it up.

Jensen frowned down at the skittles scattered all over his dressing room floor and then he reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. There was a long moment, longer than Jared was entirely comfortable with given the urge he was fighting to just reach out and smooth that frown away (although, really, he should be _used_ to that feeling by now) and then Jensen drew in a deep breath, “Right,” he said decisively, “We’re going to see the Grey Ones. They should be able to deal with this.”

“Um,” Jared said again, and he wasn’t _trying_ to sound guilty, but there must have been something in his tone if the way Jensen froze and then turned slowly to stare at him was any indication. Jared smiled brightly, and ruthlessly squashed down the urge to shift on his feet when Jensen’s eyes narrowed in response, “I may have already done that?”

“And?” Jensen said.

“They said they couldn’t help me,” Jared said. It wasn’t technically the truth; what they’d _actually_ said was that they weren’t crossing another deity to bail him out again and that Jared could clean up his own damn mess this time, but it was close enough. The details were just really semantics he didn’t need to bother Jensen with.

“Bullshit,” Jensen said, firmly, “I don’t buy that for a second. We’ll talk to Danni; she’s got enough more than enough dirt on the rest of them to get you fixed up in no time. C’mon.” He reached across the table to snatch up the keys to his truck and turned on his heel to head toward the door.

“Jen, wait,” Jared said, and he didn’t even think about it; it was instinct that did it, that had him reaching out to snag hold of Jensen’s collar. Jensen’s jacket dissolved under his fingertips into a stream of candy hearts and Jared felt his cheeks burn bright red.

Fucking _candy hearts_. Ares was a fucking _dick_ and Jared was going to eat all his damn gummy worms next time.

“Shit, _Jared_ ,” Jensen said, just a hint of exasperation colouring his tone, and Jared’s stomach rolled uncomfortably as he took half a step backward to take himself out of Jared’s reach, “Be _careful_.”

“Sorry, sorry, fuck,” Jared said, apologies tumbling over themselves in his speed to get them out, and he scrubbed one hand through his hair in frustration, “I didn’t mean to, I just, there was something else.”

Jensen stilled, “Something else?” he asked, cautiously, and Jared nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, “Ares wants- I mean, he said that I could redeem myself if I just, and I, well- It’s just a little job, Jen, “ It sounded lame, even to his own ears, and Jensen groaned.

“You’re talking about a fucking quest,” he said flatly, “Please tell me you didn’t agree to a quest, Jared.”

Jared carefully folded his bottom lip between his teeth and didn’t say a damn thing.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Jensen said vehemently, and he slammed his keys back down on the dressing room table with a clatter, “You _are_ an idiot. Or insane, I’m not sure which. _Why_ would you even think that was a good idea?”

Jared spread his hands helplessly, “It’s not like I had a lot of choices,” he said, in the most reasonable tone he could muster.

“You mean other that _not pissing off a god_ ,” Jensen snapped and, yeah, okay, Jared kind of got it. He knew Jensen had had bad experiences with questing (although not why; when it came to questing, Jensen was surprisingly tight-lipped, even with half a bottle of bourbon in him), but it didn’t mean the accusatory bite to Jensen’s tone didn’t sting, just a little bit.

Fuck, he _hated_ when Jensen was pissed at him.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said, more quietly than he’d intended, and there must have been something in his expression because Jensen swore softly, reaching out before he visibly stopped himself; his hand hovering uselessly in the air for a moment before he let his arm drop back to his side.

“I know,” he said, “I’m not trying to be an ass. I just-“ He cut himself off with a shake of his head, “Never mind. What does he want you to do?”

“Well,” Jared said slowly, “He may not have explained the whole thing yet?”

“I’m gonna regret asking this,” Jensen muttered, before he said, far more clearly, “Why not?”

“Because it’s a two man job and he hates having to repeat himself,” Jared explained in a rush, his words running together just a little at the end, and he fixed Jensen with his most hopeful smile. It was a long shot, he _knew_ it was a long shot but he honestly couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone but Jensen.

He didn’t _want_ to imagine doing this with anyone but Jensen.

Jensen stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable despite Jared’s best efforts, before he moved suddenly, dropping his face into his hands with a groan. “I hate you,” he said, but there was no bite to it, and Jared felt his smile shift into something easier, more genuine. _I hate you_ wasn’t _no; I hate you_ wasn’t even _maybe_.

_I hate you_ was _don’t worry_ and _I’ve got your back, asshole_ and _like you even needed to ask_. 

Jensen spread his fingers across his face and glared at Jared between the gaps. “You owe me so big,” he warned, his voice muffled against his palms and Jared thought about protesting, but really, Jensen had a point.

“Thanks, Jen,” he said, instead, and he couldn’t keep the smile or the sincerity out of his voice. Jensen rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a goddamn hero,” he said dryly, dropping his arms back to his sides and stuffing his hands into his pockets, “So, now what?”

Jared took a breath and then paused, at a loss as to how to answer. It wasn’t like his own instructions had made it any further than this, “Um,” he said helplessly, “I guess-“

He didn’t really know what he guessed, but he was saved from having to explore the thought any further by an almighty _crack-flash_ , that thundered deafeningly through his head and sent multi-coloured splodges flooding across his vision. Jared clapped his hands over his ears instinctively, blinking furiously in a desperate attempt to try and clear his vision. 

It took a few moments for the ringing in his brain to subside and for the room to coalesce back into focus, but once it finally did, it was pretty hard to miss the source of the commotion. A disturbingly-familiar figure was sprawled into Jensen’s dresser chair – dark hair, cruel nose and the creak of armour to accompany every shift and movement - and Jared swallowed.

He’d never seen the god of war outside of a temple. He’d never _expected_ to see the god of war in Jensen’s dressing room.

Ares leaned forward and plucked an errant skittle off the edge of Jensen’s dressing table, rolling it between his fingers thoughtfully. His gaze passed over Jared, heavy as a touch and with just as much lasting impression and Jared carefully bit down on his bottom lip again.

Jared’s mouth had a tendency to get him in trouble and one curse per day was _more_ than enough.

“Minions,” Ares said, in lieu of a greeting, and Jared heard Jensen suck in a breath beside him.

“My lord,” Jared said politely, dropping his head with just the appropriate degree of reverence and to just the right angle that he could watch the god from under his eyelashes.

“Asshole,” Jensen said, coolly, and Jared jumped, his eyes widening, because _what the hell?!_ Something flared in Ares’ eyes at the insult; something dark and brutal that Jared couldn’t put a name to, but which sent ice slithering down his spine nonetheless. Then Ares’ lip curled, into something with too many teeth and not enough humour to be called a smile. His gaze raked over Jensen, thoughtful and assessing, and he pressed his thumb and his forefinger together slowly.

Jared didn’t think the crunch of a crushed skittle had ever sounded so loud.

“Sit down, boys,” Ares said smoothly, and he brushed the remains of the candy from his fingers before waving one hand grandiosely toward Jensen’s fold-out couch, “This is going to take a while.”


End file.
